


My Bad.

by 25jaefm



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Mention of blood, Tumblr AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 02:28:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6311554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/25jaefm/pseuds/25jaefm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I broke your nose in the mosh pit, Sorry.</p><p>((Tumblr AU))</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick one shot, enjoy!

This was Patrick’s first hardcore show, and honestly? It fucking sucked.

 

The two bands that have played so far were shit. The lead singers had raw vocals and shitty lyrics. Blabbing on about their poor, misunderstood suburban boy lives, and how their Dad was always working.

 

Patrick was over it quickly, not buying what this wannabes were trying to sell. It was just a bunch of whiny, drop out losers who didn’t go to College because it was “what the government wanted”

 

Patrick sighed and leaned back against the bar, watching as Joe ate this shit up and joined into the mosh.

 

Joe wasn’t light headed, maybe he just wanted to get whatever was built up out. Patrick didn’t know, and right now, didn’t really care. He wanted to go home, it was late, cold and this place was sketchy as fuck.

 

Two scene chicks had tried to buy him drinks already. They looked midway into their twenties, and far gone on whatever the guy in the corner was offering.

 

There was some skinheads, and that was fucking scary. But Patrick guessed they would leave him alone after a few glanced his way and only laughed a little.

 

There was a couple guys nodding their heads, sitting on stools a couple seats away from him. In patched vests, both hair longer than his Mom’s.

 

The bartender was hot. She had nice, light blond hair that was pinned up. Her name fitting; Brandy.

 

She talked to him for a bit, knowing he was sixteen by only glancing at him from the drink she was making. She was awesome.

 

Her tits were too, but her personality was also cool. Brandy wasn’t into this scene, but this job paid enough, and she was going through college, so getting this gig was a blessing.

 

Right now she’s on her smoke break. Some boring guy in her place.

 

He didn’t talk he just made drinks and went on about his friend’s band that was “Way better than this shit.” He was probably right.

 

Patrick sighed, watching the first band finish up with some bad, _really bad_ , guitar solo. The guy screaming his guts out.

 

When it was over, the shithead dropped the mic and flipped the crowd off. Cackling as he walked off the stage.

 

Joe came back, sweaty, blood that wasn’t his on his arm.

 

Gross.

 

“Dude, they fucking sucked.” Joe said, panting a little, jumping up on a stool. Shaking his head.

 

“I know, this whole concert does, can we go home?” Joe was Patrick’s ride here, Joe frowned and shook his head. It was 11:23, and Patrick just wanted to be curled up in bed.

 

“No, there’s like- A few more bands going on, Arma Angelus is about to play, don’t you like them?”

 

“I guess,” Patrick nodded, maybe this show wouldn’t be too shit now. Maybe standing in the back of the bar for two hours was worth it. Arma was good, a bit scene famous, he was into them.

 

He could listen to this guy’s moans and groans, they had more purpose. It sounded like it, at least.

 

When they got on, Joe moved Patrick to the crowd. Patrick pouting, looking back at Brandy as she smiled and waved him off, having come back in a few minutes before.

 

His face going red.

 

Maybe this chick was into him that would be the first time someone so, _not his league_ , actually liked him.

 

He thought maybe he’d ask for her number afterwards, at least see if he _could_ go somewhere with her.

 

Maybe a movie.

 

Joe shoved their way to the front, Patrick frowning. Scared to be so close to the mosh.

 

He was pushed against the stage and Joe screamed as the first song started. Moving back and forth, ramming into his shoulder.

 

“Fucking, chill out-“Patrick said, smiling as Joe banged his head, Joe shaking his head and looking up, grinning.

 

“No, Dude, Arma gets me going, I’m getting in the pit.”

 

Patrick turned to look back as his friend butted his way into the pit, getting shoved immediately. Patrick didn’t feel like watching his friend die right in front of his eyes, so he turned back, and before he knew it.

 

Their lead singer, Peter, or Wentz, or something, was jumping into the crowd, ramming right into Patrick. Pushing them both into the pit, his grip on the microphone still tight. Him somehow screaming as he moved around sweaty guys with anger issues.

 

Patrick felt his nose crack on impact, falling back first into the mosh. Getting kicked and stepped on.

 

Chest aching as he scrambled out, panting and red face, blood rushing out of his nose like no other.

 

God, it fucking _hurt_.

 

He stood up the best he could, seeing that no one gave a shit about a kid with a broken nose, kind of glad he wasn’t bringing attention.

 

Peter, or Wentz, or whatever, was back on stage. His lips bloody, a stupid fucking grin on his face.

 

He hated Arma now.

 

Patrick stumbled into the boy’s room,  there only being one stall, door on it’s last screw. Graffiti covering the walls, the stall, and even the sink.

 

Dirty mirror covered in new and old stickers.

 

It smelt like a sewage pipe.

 

He stumbled over to the sink, his nose burning, and blood still rushing out.

 

Patrick reached for the paper towels and turned on the water, sighing to himself as he wiped the blood from his face, and off his shirt the best he could.

 

His Mom would say something in morning, he’d probably get in trouble.

 

He stayed in the bathroom after cleaning himself up for a while, texting on his phone. Asking Kevin if he could cover for him.

 

Scoffing when Kevin said he would, but couldn’t.

 

He could after Patrick offered him his next week’s allowance.

 

Patrick walked out, rubbing his eye’s, his nose still aching. It was probably broken, it hurt like hell and looked kind of janky.

 

Brandy saw him and grinned, though a tinge of worry in her eyes. Huh, this chick was the best.

 

“You okay, kid?”

 

Patrick sighed and shook his head. She laughed, pointing at his nose, “I saw Pete get you, he looked sorry.”

 

“I didn’t see, I was too busy getting stepped on. Jesus, does everyone have to wear army boots?”

 

“If not converse, then, yeah. They do.”

 

Patrick sighed and saw Joe talking to what was now _Pete_. They looked over and Joe shoved his shoulder, apparently he had seen Patrick’s accident.

 

Patrick pulled down his sleeves, cheeks flushing as Pete walked over looking sheepish and tired.

 

Brandy chuckled and moved to take someone’s order as Pete walked over.

 

Patrick folded his arms, a little pout on his face. Eyebrows furrowed.

 

Pete smiled, and _wow_ , his smile was really nice. Better than Brandy’s.

 

“I’m sorry, about what I did- I got too into it,” He scratched the back of his neck and shrugged, seeming genuine.

 

Patrick nodded, “No, its fine, my nose hurts really bad but, just pay for my hospital bill, and we’re even.”

 

“Wait, what.” Pete’s face dropped, he was probably some poor college kid living off his Dad’s paycheck too, Patrick laughed.

 

“I’m kidding, but yeah, it hurt. A lot, but thanks for apologizing or whatever.”

 

Pete smiled nervously and nodded, seeming relieved Patrick wasn’t being serious, Patrick giggled a little. And tried not to notice the sparkle in Pete’s eyes.

 

“Uhm, yeah, so.. Like I said, I’m sorry but, you wanna.. Like, give me your number?” Pete asked, scratching at his arm, biting his lip.

 

Patrick’s face flushed fire red, butterflies bursting in his stomach. Was Pete asking him out? He gaped.

 

“I know I probably just broke your nose, but like, you’re really cute, and I need to make up for it somehow. You could give me your number, so I could ask you out tomorrow? It’s kind of late now, so.”

 

“Ask me out tomorrow?”

 

Pete nodded, a faded blush coming up on the apples of his cheeks. “Yeah, of course. Like I said, cute.”

 

Patrick watched and bit his lip, nodding. Of course.

 

“Yeah, okay, here.” Pete handed him a sharpie from t=his back pocket, like he was keeping it back there just in case an opportunity like this would happen.

 

Pete smiled a little wider as Patrick scrawled his number on his arm. Looking back up in Pete’s dark eyes as he handed over the sharpie.

 

“See you tomorrow.” Pete said, smiling and tipping the sharpie at him before turning around and running off to a group of his friends.

 

Joe walked up to him, smiling wide.

 

“So, Pete Wentz just asked you out.”  


“Yeah,” Patrick said, still really flustered. “Yeah he did.”

 

Maybe getting a broken nose and spending his Friday night at a shitty gig wasn’t such a bad way to begin his weekend.

 

The lecture he got in the morning was totally worth it.


End file.
